Page 10 of The Big Bad Duke (The Shadows #9)

L eila stepped into the grand ballroom of Kensington House, her breath catching at the sight before her.

The charity ball for the women’s shelter and the Lykai orphanage was indeed one of the most extravagant events she’d ever witnessed.

The entire space had been transformed into an underwater paradise, with flowing blue and green silk draped from the ceiling like ocean currents.

Crystal chandeliers were wrapped in translucent fabric that caught the light, creating the illusion of sunlight filtering through water.

Shells and pearls adorned every surface, while the gentle sound of water trickling from ornate fountains placed throughout the room completed the oceanic theme.

Even the guests wore clothing in varying shades of blue and green, enhancing the illusion.

It was beautiful.

It looked peaceful.

It reminded her of home. Of Ege Denizi—the Sea of Islands, or as the Greeks called it, the Aegean Sea.

For a brief, precious moment, Leila allowed herself to lose herself in the wondrous ballroom—and to find peace within it.

As she stood there, taking in the scene, Caroline, the Duchess of Kensington, appeared before her, moving gracefully through the sea of guests.

With her shiny red hair, tall, statuesque figure, and an exquisite gown the color of seafoam, adorned with diamonds covering her neck and hands, Caroline resembled a water fairy from the old stories Leila used to read as a child.

“Lady Leila! What a pleasure to see you here. Welcome.”

“Your Grace,” Leila said, offering a respectful curtsy.

“I must tell you how thoroughly impressed I am with your organizational skills.” She gestured to encompass the room.

“You’ve transformed a simple ballroom into a magical place.

And the turnout tonight is remarkable. I’m certain you’ll raise substantial contributions for your causes.

It must have taken you so much work to achieve this. ”

Caroline’s eyes brightened with genuine pleasure at the compliment.

“How kind of you to say. I love organizing balls, so it’s more of a pleasure than work.

And since I enjoy doing it, why not dedicate my talent to something useful?

The more people learn about the causes I support, the better.

And what better way to spread the word than by inviting people to dress beautifully, dance to music, and eat? ”

Leila chuckled. “A perfect trap. I need to learn this, as I have a similar mission to yours.”

“Oh?” Caroline raised a brow.

“I patronize shelters back in Smyrna for unfortunate souls who were lost as children—or even abducted for dark purposes. As a port city, many people find themselves smuggled to and from our shores.”

She swallowed, keeping the bitterness from seeping into her honey-smooth speech.

She had learned it, practiced it, and said it hundreds of times, but it never felt easy to push the words out, for they were lies.

She eased into a smile and continued, “I am here in England on this very mission, to collect funds for that purpose, while my husband pursues his own political endeavors. Of course, he is unwell at present, so he’s unable to attend functions with me.

But hopefully, he will recover soon and be able to fulfill his obligations.

In the meantime, I have the opportunity to gather as many donations as I can. ”

Caroline’s eyes widened, a thoughtful expression overtaking her features, before she nodded to herself resolutely.

“Come,” she said, linking her arm through Leila’s. “I want to introduce you to some dear friends of mine.”

“Thank you,” Leila replied, at a loss for a better response.

“They’re all interested in charity work. I’m certain they’ll help you with your cause.”

“That’s kind of you.”

“No need to thank me. That’s the purpose of my balls—to make connections. To connect kind, generous people with one another.”

Leila bit the inside of her cheek, feeling uneasy as she walked beside the duchess.

It’s a good thing, she told herself. I will be able to fulfill my mission faster with the help of these women.

“How is your husband’s health?” Caroline asked as they made their way through the crowd. “It’s been a few days since you arrived, hasn’t it?”

“Yes, you’re correct. He is still recovering from a fever. The doctor says it might take a few more days before he’s ready to step outside the house.”

“Truly? From a fever?” Caroline’s voice carried a note of disbelief.

“Well, I don’t know the actual cause of his illness. I do not fully understand what the doctor says in English, but I trust his expertise.”

“Of course,” Caroline said sympathetically. “But your English is perfect.”

“Thank you.”

Thankfully, no further prying into her husband’s illness occurred as they approached a small group of women standing in the corner of the ballroom, sipping wine.

“Ladies!” Caroline exclaimed enthusiastically. “Let me introduce you to my esteemed guest.”

The women turned as one, their smiles bright and curiosity evident in their eyes.

“Annalise, Olivia, Lavinia—this is Lady Leila, an esteemed guest from Smyrna. She is accompanying her husband on his diplomatic trip. Lady Leila, this is Lady Payne, Lady St. John, and Lady Roth.”

Leila smiled politely, though she knew she would never remember any of those names. Why did English people need so many names? It was absolutely confusing.

“A pleasure to meet you,” said the woman closest to her, and the others echoed the sentiment.

“What a wonderful ball you’ve arranged, Caroline,” one of them said.

“Yes, the decorations are absolutely divine,” chimed in another.

“The colors, the elegant way you’ve used fabric throughout the ballroom—it’s impressive,” added the third. “You’ll have to teach us how to do it.”

“I love doing it, as you know. But this particular ball… I’m simply continuing Victoria’s work, since she cannot,” Caroline said with a smile, though her eyes dimmed. “And my uncle’s work as well.”

“Your uncle would be very proud of you,” one woman said softly.

“And Victoria will be happy to read all about it in your letter.”

Caroline’s face brightened again. “But I didn’t bring Lady Leila here to boast about my hosting skills. In fact, she needs our help.”

“Oh?”

Leila openly studied the woman to her left, automatically cataloging details as she had been trained to do. She had brown hair that shone golden in the light, warm doe-brown eyes, and naturally rosy, apple-shaped cheeks.

If she were Osmanli, Leila thought, her name would surely be Elma—Apple.

“Yes, Lady Leila, would you like to explain your purpose here?” Caroline prompted.

“Of course.” Leila launched into her usual rehearsed speech while continuing to study the women before her.

Right next to the woman Leila had dubbed Elma stood another with the most beautiful golden hair she had ever seen, arranged to surround her head like a celestial halo. Leila mentally christened her Ayla, which meant “moon’s halo” in her native tongue.

The last woman in the circle had rich brown hair and light brown eyes, but what struck Leila most was her animated demeanor.

She seemed unable to remain still—fidgeting with her gown or gloves, shifting her weight from foot to foot, her head constantly turning to follow the surrounding conversations.

“That is a lovely cause. I will ask Blake—my husband—to write a bank draft before we leave the ball,” the woman Leila had named Ayla exclaimed, her cheeks flushing with enthusiasm.

“But that’s not nearly enough,” Caroline interjected. “We should encourage everyone here tonight to contribute. I only wish I could organize another ball on short notice. When are you planning to leave London?”

Leila felt her chest tighten. “It depends on circumstances—” she began, but her words died in her throat as she caught sight of a familiar figure entering the ballroom.

Wolverstone.

He was here.

The sole reason she had actually attended this function.

The sole reason she was in London to begin with.

Wolverstone.

The title suited him perfectly.

He was like a wolf carved from stone.

When she saw him for the first time, that thought had run through her mind. It was an easy name to remember, but in her mind, she couldn’t help but think of him simply as the Wolf. Grey Wolf.

With his silver hair and light grey eyes…

Bozkurt.

In Osmanli mythos, it was said that wolves were their ancestors. Seeing a grey wolf on one’s path was a sign of good luck.

Killing a wolf, on the other hand, brought a curse upon one’s entire family line.

Not that Leila planned to have a family line…

So she wasn’t as apprehensive about being tasked with killing this wolf.

He was not the regular kind of wolf, anyway. He was more dangerous, more vicious, more predatory.

And she ought not forget that.

Even when her body screamed for her to get close to him.

Even when butterflies made laps and somersaults inside her stomach at a single glimpse of him.

Even when her soul recognized him as one of her own.

A wolf.

Her mouth went dry, and she forced herself to swallow before bringing her gaze back to the concerned faces surrounding her.

“What are the circumstances keeping you here?” someone asked.

“I mean, my husband’s circumstances,” Leila said, forcing her mind back to the conversation. “His health, and then his business obligations here. We were originally only supposed to stay a few days.”

“Well, it’s most unfortunate about your husband’s health,” Caroline said with genuine sympathy, “but perhaps it’s fortunate for us that we might be able to organize several charitable events for your cause.”

Elma clapped her hands together, her doe-like eyes lighting up with inspiration. “Oh! My husband is quite an accomplished painter. We could organize a charity auction on relatively short notice and invite other artists to contribute their paintings and sculptures as well.”